Say Goodbye
by ShelbyLehnsherr
Summary: Erik dreads being the bearer of bad news on Christmas Eve to his husband Charles Xavier. After hearing the news, Charles doesn't know how he is going to cope. *ERIK/CHARLES* *SLASH*


**Say Goodbye**

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><p>"<em>I am fully aware of what this proposal entails, Mr. Lehnsherr. Certainly nine months in Tokyo is not ideal, but turning down such a generous offer is something I am not willing to do." Sebastian Shaw, founder and CEO of Shaw Enterprises, had quite possibly just broken the worst news imaginable. Erik had known Shaw was very involved in an upcoming project; a project that was also backed by the prestigious Stark Industries. Tony Stark was more than adamant on pursuing the deal, and that made it even more difficult for Shaw to refuse. After working out all the details, no matter how crucial or trivial, Shaw was convinced that there was nothing but immense profit to be made. Tony had a rather provocative but irresistible plan that would ultimately make their vision a reality - with their probability of failure near obsolete. <em>

_Erik flexed his jaw and turned his attention away from Shaw to gaze solemnly out the window. A few years ago, a deal like this would have been something he'd never dream of denying. A few years ago, he would have been more than prepared to pack his bags and fly to Tokyo for however long Shaw needed him there. Now, he had a reason to stay behind - Charles, his husband of just over a year; Nine months away from him might as well be an eternity. "I did not think it would be." _

_Shaw leaned forward and folded his hands over the top of his desk. His expression showed no amusement, because for the briefest instant, he doubted Erik would accompany him on the trip. "Mr. Stark sees no reason not to fund the program, so pulling the plug on our participation is not an option." Emma, Shaw's office assistant, strolled over to his desk with a hint of hesitance in her step. She was almost worried for Erik, that is, if he didn't meet up to Shaw's request. _

"_You are the best engineer on my staff, and I realize that it would be extremely foolish not to bring you along. I have no doubt that you will work well with some of Stark's associates." The furrow between Shaw's brows noticeably deepened as he nearly glowered at the man across from him. "So, Mr. Lehnsherr…I expect that you will consider."_

_Erik looked back to Shaw, swallowing thickly around the lump in his throat. He knew very well what it could mean for him if he were to deny - he could be demoted, or possibly even fired. Shaw had ways of getting what he wanted, even if it meant resorting to such drastic measures. At this point in time, he could not afford to turn anything down. _

"_When are we expected to leave?"_

"_This coming Tuesday. Now, if I could just get you to sign the bottom of this form here…"_

_Three days._

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><p><em>December 24 - 7:45PM<em>

The entire drive home, Erik was regretting his decision. The hardest part was going to be telling Charles that he agreed to go away for nine months. Surely, he was going to be extremely busy, so weekly visitations back to the city were highly unlikely. His hands gripped the steering wheel as he proceeded to drive back to their apartment; his mind was conjuring up several different ways he could go about explaining the situation. Nothing he could say would lessen the severity of what Shaw required of him.

Never before had Erik and Charles been separated for such a lengthy amount of time; Charles was what he looked forward to after yet another grueling day at work, and without that, Erik did not doubt the insanity that could result. More than anything, he did not want to leave Charles alone in their apartment, especially considering the crime rates there in New York.

Erik continually suggested to himself that he simply bring Charles along, but that would be impossible - Charles had a job here, and he couldn't just ask so suddenly for nine months of leave. So, unless he wanted to look for another job, he had no choice but to accompany Shaw on his trip to Tokyo.

As Erik pulled into the parking lot of their apartment complex, the churning in his stomach considerably worsened. He felt the bile rising dangerously in his throat as he contemplated what he was about to do, and the day he was doing it - Christmas Eve. Charles was quite cheerful around the holidays, but Erik knew that telling him this was going to undoubtedly shatter his spirits. Such news could not wait to be told, lest he risk hurting his husband even more.

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><p>Christmas had always been a personal favorite of Charles' - from the day after Thanksgiving to a few days into the new year, no door was safe from a bright wreath of garland, no shelf devoid of a string of blinking lights, and the corner of the living room that usually housed a rickety shelf of books was filled with a tree (real, despite the fact that Erik grumbled tirelessly as he hauled it up the three flights of stairs and swept up fallen needles daily). There was even a menorah in the dining room (an addition that Erik said was unnecessary but Charles knew he secretly approved of), and though he still stumbled over the prayers every time and needed Erik's assistance on more than one pronunciation, he was learning, and it really was the thought that counted after all.<p>

It was their fourth Christmas together but their first as an actual married couple, and Charles had thrown himself even further into his holiday preparation in the efforts of making not just the single day perfect, but the entire month.

Charles had never been a particularly gifted cook. During his childhood, he'd never been given any reason to prepare a meal for himself - the staff at the estate had ensured that both he and Raven were far, far away from the kitchen at all times, and even during college he'd relied heavily on the dining hall at Oxford. After moving to New York, Charles had counted his blessings upon the discovery of so many take-out and delivery places within a few blocks of his first tiny apartment, and after meeting Erik, the other man had quickly taken over any culinary duties that extended past a microwave. But this was Christmas Eve, and Erik was working (knowing his hellish boss, it would probably be late, too) so he'd printed out a handful of recipes that were assuredly easy to prepare, spent far longer than necessary at the grocer's that afternoon, and braved the kitchen.

Within twenty minutes, the fire alarm was blaring and he'd been forced to throw open the living room windows to clear the air.

One crisis averted and any evidence of his failed attempt at a nice meal safely thrown in the garbage bin, Charles settled for something far less hazardous than brisket and hoped that by the time Erik arrived at home, everything would be in proper order. He was removing a pan from the oven and pulling plates from the cabinet to his right when he heard Erik's keys rattle in the lock (which was unusual in itself, as Erik usually didn't even bother with the trouble of keys) and the door close with a little more force than necessary, but that could have just as easily been from the wind blowing through the still open windows.

Abandoning the plates and leaving the pan on the stovetop, Charles quickly wiped his hands on a spare dishtowel and left the kitchen, smiling brightly as Erik dropped his briefcase on the table and shrugged out of his heavy coat.

"Hello, love." Charles said, crossing the room so that he could press a kiss to the corner of Erik's mouth. "Long day at the office?"

No matter how hard he tried, Erik could not successfully mask the disappointment he felt. He couldn't even focus enough to return the kiss that Charles gave him; instead, his gaze fell to the carpet, not being able to bear the look of happiness plastered on Charles face, knowing that in a few moments, such happiness would be nonexistent. "Very." It slipped past his lips as a whisper, not trusting his voice to speak much higher than that.

Charles knew from the moment Erik walked through the door that something was bothering him. It was normal for him to return home in less than spectacular spirits after a long day at work - Charles was very much used to allowing Erik at least a half hour of peace and quiet to unwind before he started hedging around his ill mood in order to find out what was bothering him - and he hoped that nothing particularly disastrous had happened. Erik's boss, for all he had heard about him, was not the most understanding of men, and Charles could only guess the number of things he'd surely asked Erik to do even when he was supposed to be enjoying a holiday.

Taking a step back, Charles felt the smile fade from his face as Erik looked to the floor, his full attention suddenly focused on the carpet. He could have very easily found out what was troubling him without even asking, but they'd come to a mutual agreement long ago that things were much better if Charles stayed out of his head and allowed Erik to come around on his own. Instead, he reached out a tentative hand and tilted Erik's chin upward so that he was looking, once again, at Charles.

"What's happened?" he asked quietly, voice full of concern. "It's Christmas Eve, no one should look that sullen."

On any other day, Erik would have given in to a smile. He absolutely despised the fact that he actually did have a reason to look so sullen. If there was anything he could have possibly done to prevent his departure, he would have done it. "I need to talk to you." His voice rose a few octaves, but the tone left Charles no reason to believe that something wasn't terribly wrong.

Something settled uncomfortably in the pit of Charles' stomach - a tight knot of fear and anxiety all rolled into one, because I need to talk to you was never a good response to anything, and he could already feel himself wringing the dishtowel he still held tightly in his hands. He thought back to this morning and the hours that had followed, wracking his brain for anything that could have possibly gone wrong; Erik had called during lunch, just as Charles was coming in from getting the mail, and they'd talked for a few moments before Erik had been forced to hang up. Another text had been sent later in the afternoon, warning Charles that he might be home late because of a last minute meeting he with Shaw, but that had been it.

"Of - of course." Charles stammered, eyes searching Erik's face just a tad bit desperately. "You're worrying me, Erik. What's wrong?"

Erik cleared his throat and mentally pieced together exactly what he was going to say before he actually said it. It wasn't like he was afraid of saying the wrong thing, because not a single thing that was about to come out of his mouth was right to any degree. With a sigh, Erik began. "Shaw specifically requested that I go with him to Tokyo for his latest project…" He trailed off; the silence stretched uncomfortably between them for several long moments. "Considering the circumstances, he made it very difficult to refuse."

_Tokyo._

It wouldn't be the first time Erik had travelled for business; within the first few months of their relationship, Erik had travelled to Los Angeles and Europe on several occasions, called away for some project or another. As he moved further up within the company, his trips had somehow become less frequent; Shaw was the one who did the traveling, leaving Erik behind to deal with whatever was happening at their main office.

If he was being asked to come along on such short notice, surely it was something urgent and rather pressing - maybe one of his latest investments had gone wrong and Erik was merely being used as temporary backup.

Charles ignored the lump of dread rising in his throat and nodded a few times, though Erik hadn't said anything for him to agree to. "How long?" he asked carefully. "A few days...a week?"

How Erik wished it was _only _a few days, or even just a few weeks. He would give anything in the world if it meant having Charles come along with him, or miraculously not needing to go at all. However, staying in New York was merely a pipe dream, and he had no choice but to abide by his superior's demands. "Charles…" He reached forward and took Charles hand in his own, briefly glancing down at their matching gold bands. "…Shaw anticipates that the job will take a minimum of nine months to complete."

Nine months.

_Nine months._

Nine months. Two hundred and seventy days, give or take a few.

For a moment, Charles was sure that he couldn't breathe.

Erik was going to be gone for nine months. Erik was going to be hundreds of miles away, thousands of miles away, for nine months. They'd never been apart for more than three weeks in their entire relationship - it was foolish to think that something like this would never possibly happen, but Charles was an optimist to a fault, and he had quickly fallen into the idea of having Erik as a constant presence in his life, both physically and mentally. He tried, briefly, to imagine daily life without Erik; he'd return to work as soon as the winter holidays were finished, but that still meant nine months' worth of mornings and nights to fill with something that wasn't his husband, weekends and holidays and various other occasions that Erik would not be able to be a part of.

Birthdays celebrated alone. Cooking for one again. No one to come home to in the evenings, no easy smile or well-placed joke to make him feel better after a particularly rough day with his students. Nine months of just simply being alone.

Charles drew his hand away from Erik's and swallowed thickly, his eyes already burning and hazy. He nodded and started wringing the dishtowel again, so tightly he was sure that his knuckles were stretched white. He turned away from Erik, not trusting himself to be able to keep his composure if he caught sight of the other man's expression.

"Ah, well..." he trailed off, sucking in a shaky breath as he fought to keep his voice steady. "Well...ah, it is for...it's for work, then, and you can't rightfully say n-no."

Erik's heart very nearly split in two when Charles pulled his hand away. The last thing that he wanted was there to be distance between himself and his partner when they had the pleasure of being as close as they wanted. Their time together was severely limited, and every second of Erik's absence was going to tear him apart. Truthfully, he did not know if he would be able to handle it.

Regardless of his decision, Charles was far more important than work.

The furrow between Erik's brows deepened as Charles struggled to get out a complete sentence. He could not stand to see him like this. More than ever, he did not want to leave him alone. Sure, Raven just lived a couple of blocks down the street, but somehow he felt it wasn't nearly enough.

Charles could feel Erik watching him even though his back was turned, and though the very last thing he wanted was to draw away from the other man, he didn't want to cry in front of him either. His eyes were already welling with tears and there was a sob caught in his throat that he was vainly trying to swallow down, but every time he tried to the reality that Erik was leaving for nine months came crashing down on him again.

"Charles?" Erik took a tentative step forward and extended a hand out to rest on the other mans shoulder, feeling the gentle shake as Charles attempted to choke back a sob. It was when Charles finally let it out that he closed the distance between them, arms coming up to wrap protectively around his husband as he felt tears pricking the corners of his own eyes.

It was then that he lost any bit of control he had over his composure; Erik's hand was resting on his shoulder and even without looking at him Charles could see the concern that would undoubtedly be plastered all over his face. The sob he'd been attempting to choke back bubbled up anyway, coming out so forcefully that it hurt, and he turned even before Erik's arms had completely wrapped around him, burying his face in his chest.

Erik kissed the top of Charles head, then closed his eyes as his hold tightened, silently refusing to let him go. The tears finally slid down as Charles released yet another strangled sob.

"I love you. I'm _sorry_."

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><p><strong>-End of Part One- <strong>


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